Professor Holmes and Watson
by sherlxckfalls-nomore
Summary: Professor Holmes, new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. He soon meets his collegues and more: Watson the retired quidditch star, Molly the nurse, Jim the Potions teacher, his big brother Mycroft with his 'minor' position in the Ministry of Magic... Add in annoying prefects Anderson and Donavan and already chaos is set. But mysterious Irene Adler is the new head of Slytherin...
1. The Train Journey

**Professor Holmes and Watson**  
Sherlock was on the train, looking out as the steam from the front misted his view of the rolling hills of Scotland. His brother, Mycroft, persuaded Sherlock to take this job as the Ministry of Magic was trying to find a decent Defense against the Dark Arts. Rather unwillingly, Sherlock took up the offer as he was bored. He hadn't been to Hogwarts since he was a boy. He remembered the annoying prefects, the first year pranks (usually on him) and the revenge he so subtly delivered. Of course, the Sorting Hat found placing this young boy very hard. He was courageous, sly, clever, but also slightly clumsy too, at least he was in his first year. In the end, his wit and intelligence overruled the others, resulting in a Ravenclaw.  
Sherlock then looked at his Daily Prophet he had bought before entering the train. He was reading how some quidditch guy, probably really famous, had been part of a major sporting accident and was retiring from professional competitive quidditch to teach at Hogwarts. However, he was quickly interrupted as a mature adult walked in with a small briefcase floating behind him. The guy flicked his wand and the briefcase, with the initials JHW, flew up and maneuvered neatly into a tight space. The guy sat down opposite Sherlock before closing the compartment door. Sherlock looked up properly at the man. He had light brownish, blonde hair, with a couple of light grey strands appearing. He also had a moustache of the same colour, which Sherlock really didn't like. He preferred people clean shaven rather than messy. The only reason his hair was a curly nest was because he couldn't tame it.  
"Professor John Watson. I'm new here... Any tips?" He asked in a friendly manner. Sherlock looked into his eyes.  
"I'm new here too. What does the H stand for? Harry?" Sherlock said, only replying to Professor Watson's question briefly. John hesitated at the mention of Harry, then said,  
"No. It doesn't really matter anyway." He avoided eye contact. "So what are you going to teach?" Sherlock saw him trying to change the subject, but didn't really give much thought to it.  
"Defence against the Dark Arts. I've always preferred that compared to other lessons." Sherlock stated.  
"Oh. That's nice, I'm the new Quidditch teacher." John replied, even though Sherlock hadn't asked. Sherlock suddenly realised that this Watson guy was the man from the Daily Prophet. But surely a famous quidditch player would have enough galleons to retire and live a very comfortable life? The quidditch accident, Sherlock could see, had left John with a limp and a walking stick.


	2. The Great Hall

**enjoy :)**  
The Great Hall. Headmaster, Professor Lestrade, was just rising to talk to the many students chatting in the Great Hall, adorned with Slytherin drapings as they had won the. House cup the previous year. There was also several anxious first years standing by the great, lumbering giant, named Hagrid or something. "Ehem." Said Lestrade. "Welcome, to what I am sure is going to be another prosperous and successful year at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. To begin, I would like to introduce all new teachers, as well as inform first years of current teachers. Professors," he said, no talking back to the long desk of professors, "Please stand as your name is called. To begin, me! I am Professor Lestrade, Transfiguration teacher." Sherlock then heard many names, including a Professor Moriarty, Potions teacher; Professor Watson, Quidditch teacher; himself, as Defence against the Dark arts, and Professor Adler, newly appointed head of Slytherin, and Charms teacher.  
"Merlin's beard," Sherlock thought to himself, "Shes the hottest woman I've ever seen."  
As students left the Great Hall after the Sorting and a delicious feast, Sherlock was still trying to catch a glimpse of Professor Adler, who he had now discovered was called Irene. As she walked past, she gave a little wink and a smile at Sherlock, before he lost sight of her in the crowd of students.  
"Professor Holmes," said Lestrade as he walked up to Sherlock, with Watson next to him. "I'm afraid you two are sharing a cottage. There's been a mix-up and we're one room short. It's located by Ravenclaw dormitories." He said to the two men.  
"Hang on, I'm a Griffindor teacher!" John Watson protested, but was silenced by Lestrade.  
"It is done. Owls will send to you your timetables by tomorrow morning. Goodnight." Said a firm Lestrade.  
15 minutes later, Sherlock and John arrived in their cottage. There was two, equally sized double bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a cosy living room with a never ending fire.  
"Butter beer?" John asked, already in the kitchen as Sherlock plonked his ass down on the largest chair.  
"Sure." Sherlock said, daydreaming about Professor Adler. "Thanks." He said as John passed him the Butterbeer.  
"Did you see that Nurse Hooper- Molly?" John asked. It was quite obvious he liked her. "We were chatting a bit, she seems really nice."  
Sherlock was clearly not interested. "Yes, well, that good, but I feel quite tired, I think I'm going to go to bed."  
John felt pretty miffed, but with no company, he too got up and limped to his own room. As Sherlock closed the door, he heard a tapping noise. He checked the window and saw a tawny owl waiting to be let in with his timetable. Sherlock opened the squeaky window, before paying the own 4 Knuts and taking the timetable. He turned the lights out and began to dream, definitely not about Irene Adler, of course.


	3. The First Lesson and the Night of Forget

**The First Lesson and the Night He'd Never Forget**  
Sherlock dressed into his robes and silmultaneously used his bewitched toothbrush to brush his teeth and a comb brushed his hair, which refused to settle. His timetable was also floating by his side, and Sherlock read that his first lesson was with Hufflepuff fifth years. He'd always thought Hufflepuffs were too closed minded. If a particularly stupid one talked, they'd lower the IQ of the whole school! But that was just his opinion. He hoped that these days the standard of Hufflepuffs had risen. As Sherlock walked to his first lesson, he passed Irene. He looked down at her body. He could see her perfect figure even under her long, flowing robes that wrapped round her petite figure. If she was naked, he would study her shape to the inch. He chuckled at the thought. He finally reached his classroom.  
"Good morning, I'm Professor Holmes, you should have read and revised chapter 4 of your textbooks you bought over Summer, I'm going to begin with a little quiz to see at what level you all are." He said, which left the students groan and mumble. Two students, sitting next to each other, raised their hands. They looked like the class troublemakers, except they had shiny prefect badges. "Names." He barked at them, in approval for them to speak.  
"Anderson." Said the boy.  
"Donovan." Said the girl. She continued. "Anderson and I have only recently bought our textbooks, as I am sure many other students have. We haven't even had any time to revise, I haven't read it, sir." She put on a mock pout and puppy eyes which were truly pathetic.  
"Urgh," Sherlock sighed. "10 points from Hufflepuff. I expect you to all learn in to next lesson. Anyone under 75% will have a detention. I promise." More protests came from the students, especially Anderson and Donovan.  
"But Sir, our next lesson is tomorrow!" Anderson whined in a very childlike voice.  
"Well then." Sherlock sat down, "I expect you to start revising then. Revision lesson. Complete silence. That means all of you." He barked, eyeing Anderson and Donovan. He sat down and began filling in some paperwork about sharing the cottage with John. It looked like it was going to be a permanent placing.

That night, Lestrade had organised a get together for all teachers in Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Tomorrow would be Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. As Sherlock freshened up, just before the event, John suddenly cried out in pain.  
"John! Are you okay? I'm going to walk you to the Hospital Wing. Come on, John, get up for me." Sherlock watched as John lay on the floor, clutching his leg and crying out in pain. Within a few minutes, Sherlock had taken John up to the Hospital Wing, with a help of some charms. Sherlock then went to the meeting after being reassured that John was in good hands.

Laughter. Firewhisky. Games. Charms. Laughter. Firewhisky. Laughter. Firewhisky. Drunk. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Sherlock woke in his bed, feeling very dizzy. His head was spinning and he realised he was drunk. Very drunk. How could he be? He was with other teachers. He couldn't remember much from last night. Irene. He remembered Irene. And Moriarty. Professor Moriarty. Probing questions. Sherlock clutched his head in pain. He checked his clock, and the time showed that it was 10. Hang on, TEN?! He was needed in lessons! He raised, dizzily, took a drink of water and chucked some new clothes on. As he was about to exit through the door, he saw a small note on the door. As it opened, it said to him "Dear Sherlock, I have covered your lessons for you. I have fully recovered from last night when I visited the hospital wing. I suggest you drink lots of water and go back to sleep. Love from Professor John Watson." The envelope dropped to the floor, limp and lifeless once again, and Sherlock slumped into the sofa. And... Sleep.

Dream, Sherlock. Moriarty. Whip up a poison. Potion? Next week. Definitely poison. Victim. Irene. Moriarty. Irene. Wake.

Sherlock woke from his dream. It was quite odd, to say the least. He was dreaming about the dinner party, which he had completely forgotten. What exactly happened that night? Sherlock was definitely not a lightweight, so his drink must have been spiked... But by who? He didn't like this Moriarty guy, he seemed quite shifty,a genius, yes, but suspicious all the same. And he also had his eyes on the lovely Adler woman. Perhaps Sherlock was jealous? But Sherlock never got jealous. Then again, he had never felt for a woman, or a man. How did he know what he was feeling? He was drunk! "Alcaholitus Obliteratus." Sherlock said drowsily, pointing his wand towards himself, knowing that it would be safe to do so now, as he wasn't as drunk as earlier. He regained his health quite quickly, then sat up straight. He got properly ready, then decided to go down the The Leaky Cauldron.

:) thanks for reading. Disclaimer: no characters or settings are mine etc etc

review :D


	4. The Leaky Cauldron and the Not-So Murder

**The Leaky Cauldron and the Not-so murder**  
Sherlock walked into the Leaky Cauldron with his scarf and long coat, as well as a couple of galleons. As he asked the two headed lady for a Butterbeer, he opened his timetable and began to plan some lessons, taking a sip of his drink every now and again. He looked around, assessing his situation and the people around him. Then Professor Moriarty walked in. He sat down right next to Sherlock. "Shouldn't you be in lessons?" Asked Sherlock with some impatience in his voice.  
"Shouldn't you?" Moriarty retorted. "An apple, please." Moriarty gestured to the bar women. He caught the red apple and bit into it. "Do you like apples, Sherlock?" He asked in a slow, deliberate voice.  
"No. Muggle food generally has no taste." Sherlock said slowly, not wishing to have a conversation with this man.  
"Did you have fun last night, Sherlock?" Moriarty asked.  
Sherlock glanced at him. Moriarty was spiting him like this on purpose. Sherlock didn't answer, while Moriarty was watching him like a predator would watch his prey. After a tense and long 30 seconds, Moriarty dumped the bitten apple onto the table, before walking off. Sherlock sighed. After a while, he left the Leaky Cauldron and went back to his cottage.  
"Sherlock! There's been a murder!" After a few hours of peacefulness, John Watson had burst in, startling Sherlock. John was quite breathless and looked in pain also. All lessons for this afternoon were hereby cancelled. "It's a girl, a Hufflepuff. Second year, Lilly Cooper? Anyway, come quick, as much staff help as possible is needed. Er... It may not be a murder, I only overheard some fifth years gossiping about it."  
Sherlock and John briskly walked down the corridor of which the event had occurred, and many teachers were standing round something, with meddling students trying to take a peak. John aided Nurse Hooper and they carried her down to the hospital wing using magic, protection charms and invisibility charms so no students would become distressed.  
In the Hospital wing, the teachers were desperately trying to find out exactly what was wrong with this poor girl, and if she was really dead. John had only assumed and heard rumors, so there was still a chance for Lilly yet. Sherlock looked at her, any telltale signs of anything. "Revelaxio." Sherlock muttered. Nothing happened. Sherlock looked at her lips and opened them slightly. He also looked up her nose and inspected her hand, as well as checking her pupils. "Moonseed." He muttered. "Moonseed!" He exclaimed, this time loud enough for Nurse Hooper to hear. Soon, an antidote was acquired. Sherlock and John, no longer needed, were sent to rest and recover from this event.  
"Sherlock, how did you guess?" John asked. Sherlock looked at him from the corner of his eye. John really was confused. Sherlock walked on briskly, and John practically had to run to keep up with him.  
Back at the cottage, which was oddly named Tootwunbee, a magical sprout that made and baked bread as it grew, Sherlock sat down and decided to tell John. "The Science of Deduction." Sherlock said. "Firstly, there was no signs of a wound, therefore it was not a damage to the body such as a blade or bullet, common muggle ways to murder or severely harm another. Then, I used the spell Revelaxio, which of course reveals where any spell within the past hour entered her body. There was none. No-one had cursed this girl. I then thought about the possibility of a poison, and checked her lips. I saw that her mouth and lips were moist, and her nose was enlarged, a tell-tale sign of Moonseed and a few others. Also in her grubby fingernails was a white powder. The only other option was Bubblestick, but her pupils were not dilated, leaving none other than Moonseed. Are you satisfied?" He asked in an irritated manner.  
"Erm. Yes." John said, still working through what Sherlock has said. Sherlock looked at John, who finally finished processing this. He soon got ready for the get together for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. As he walked out the door, he peeped his head back, "Oh, er Sherlock? I trust you will cover my lessons tomorrow like I did for you." John gave a brief smile before disappearing round the door. Sherlock sat down, and began to play his violin, a muffles musical instrument, but nevertheless, beautiful.

please review guys, but thanks for reading :) x


	5. Overheard in the Library

The Woman

IM SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ON IN AGES X

Sherlock headed to the library. He was researching briefly about the solar system, as he had to cover some Divination lessons the following morning. He knew nothing about the stars, and couldn't face not being able to answer students questions. If there was anything Sherlock didn't like, it was not knowing. As he was researching books his mind began to wander into his past, about his muggle parents, his hate for ordinary, and his freedom when he entered the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As he turned into the forbidden section of the library, his long, bony fingers caressed the old, dusty spines as he scanned for a book on astronomy. He came to a halt as he briefly caught sight of someone around a bookcase. Sherlock instantly suspected an older female, perhaps a seventh year, from the fresh, floral perfume that was left in her pathway. Silently, Sherlock followed the mysterious student up to a darker part of the library. He quickly poked his head around the corner, before pulling back again. He had seen Professor Moriarty, the guy who had the apple. And Professor Adler. Not a student. A teacher! Sherlock felt like shaking his head from stupidity. They were quietly conversing, and he stood completely still as he just about made out what they said. "James. You idiot! How could you have let that Holmes professor see the clues? You're really letting me down."

He replied casually, not at all threatened by her. "Chill. He saw what he's meant to see. Don't worry. I'm bringing a friend of mine in." Irene narrowed her eyes, unsure whether she should get rid of Moriarty and his odd plan. Eventually, after a painful silence, Irene said "Fine. Who is this friend of yours?" Moriarty smiled a little half smile. " I wouldn't exactly say friend. Try sister." Sherlock couldn't help but give out a small gasp. He had deduced Moriarty, and a sister was not noticed in his deductions. He seemed to be a single child... Sherlock knew that at least one of the pair would have heard him. He ran swiftly away, as they whipped their heads to see who was there. Sherlock ruffled his hair as he exited the library, with a book in his hand, he went back to his cottage for another nights sleep.

In the morning, after a quick Butterbeer, Sherlock glanced at his cover sheet. Third year Griffindors, Fifth year Hufflepuffs and Sixth year Slytherins. With this packed schedule, Sherlock began to worry. Especially with the older years, they would have extensive knowledge of the stars, while Sherlock chose to forget all about this unnecessary subject.

Sherlock sat down in the tower on a small stool. He handed out papers to attentive looking third years who chatted quietly. "Sir." A young boy piped up. Sherlock asked his name. He was James. James Potter. He had black hair, with light brown eyes which contained a mischievous glint in them. "What do we do? It's our third lesson and so far we've not learnt anything! This worksheet makes no sense... And our textbooks are full of crap." Sherlock was quite startled by this boy. "Firstly, do not speak out of turn." He continued coldly. "Secondly, you do not slander the name of Hogwarts books. Professor Lestrade has approved every textbook used by teachers. If they are good enough for your headmaster, they are good enough for you. 15 points from Griffindor. Who's your house head?"

James looked down, before replying "Professor Longbottom. Sir." Sherlock promised he would have a word with him, before telling the whole class to continue working and look at page 19 for help. The rest of the lesson was quite uneventful, perhaps because no-one dared speak to this strict teacher.

Next was fifth year Hufflepuffs. 'Oh God,' Sherlock thought 'this is the same lot who all failed that quiz I gave them after the revision lesson.' As they walked in, he noticed Anderson and Donovan holding hands quite secretively. His eyes narrowed as they sat down together. As Donovan saw Sherlocks' death glare, she looked down at his Prefect badge and lightly polished it with her finger, before smiling up at the annoyed Professor. He then called Donovan to give out the papers, which left the class groaning. It was a test. as he ordered them to silence his head turned as Professor Adler who was waiting at the door. "Excuse me, Professor Holmes. May I talk to you?"

review pls :D


End file.
